What the hell, thought Ander. Those berserkers were supposed to absorb transformational energy, not be transformed themselves. How powerful is that thing?
First things first. Ander raised a shield to protect the acolytes and others from the rabbits. (The Duke, now completely covered with hair as he happily swung through the tree, occasionally pausing to grunt and scratch himself, was on the other side of it, but that couldn't be helped.) The rabbits threw themselves against the invisible screen Ander had raised to no avail, but Ander could feel his strength being drained to maintain it.
Meanwhile the acolytes were retreating and forming up, those armed with missiles were drawing their bows.
Then an old man in dark robes appeared in the area between the acolytes and the shield. He scanned the crowd, then identified one individual.
"Mika! How did you manage to screw it up this time?" the old man barked.
"Mmm.m.aster?" answered Mika.